


Supernatural Drabbles and Shorts

by Arystina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, Angst, Brotherly Love, Characters may be a bit OOC, Demons, Drabbles, Family, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Winchesters, Mild Language, Occasional Castiel, Randomness, Short Stories, other characters may make an appearance, some crack crossovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-04-07 20:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4277718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arystina/pseuds/Arystina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and one-shots mainly about the brothers, with the occasional appearance or mention of other characters from the show. Some stories are about specific episodes, others are completely AU, and some are about kid!Winchesters. These stories are in no particular order nor are related to each other in any way and range from humor to hurt/comfort and angst. I just wanted to stick these all into one overall collection rather than submit them individually. I hope you all enjoy! :3</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baby Talk

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles and short stories were originally posted over on Fanfiction.net under the same username. Many of these were written for the Enkidu07 and Onyx Moonbeam Drabble Challenge for Supernatural fanfiction over on FF that no longer appears to be going on. They are fairly old, written back in 2009, but I thought people may enjoy them nonetheless. I may eventually add newer stories to this collection.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam says his first word while John is away, and Dean is left to solve this newest problem.

* * *

 

Sam was just over a year old when he started learning to talk. His first word—'dada.' Only Dad wasn't around, just Dean, and Dean didn't want to be called 'dada.'

"Dean," Dean said for what felt like the one-hundredth time. He poked himself in the chest. "Dean."

"Dada!" Sam chortled, clapping his chubby little hands.

"No, Sammy." Dean felt flustered. "Dad's not here. I'm Dean. Can you say 'Dean'?"

"Dada!" Sam giggled and reached out. "Dada, Dada, Dada!"

"Not 'dada,' Dean. Deeeeeeeaaaaaaaaannnnnnn."

Sam blinked. "Deeeeeeeeeeeeee... Dee!"

Dean winced.

Well, it was a start.

The following year it became 'Deanie.'

* * *

 


	2. Slight Amnesia

* * *

Dean acknowledged that he had a thick skull. However, there were only so many times it could be smashed against a solid object.

Or _with_ a solid object.

Either way, there'll be some damage.

He woke up with his younger brother hovering over him.

"Told you not to hustle pool with those guys," Sam said. "How are you feeling?"

Dean sat up and reached one hand to gingerly touch the lump on his head. "I've been better." He winced. "Ugh…I seriously need to start wearing a hardhat on the job."

"Why?"

"Cause for a moment there, I forgot your name."

* * *

 


	3. Wrong Impression

* * *

 Bright eyes twinkled.

Long lashes fluttered.

A twitch of a smile.

"So…have any plans tonight?"

"No…"

Dean eyed Jo Harvelle with much fervor. "Well…I'm sure—you and me—we could get together and—"

"Absolutely not!"

Dean yelped as Ellen appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of his ear, proceeding to drag him out of the bar. "Of all the—"

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"Downright despicable—!"

"Mom!"

"—even think doing that—?"

"Ahh!"

"—To my DAUGHTER!"

Dean hit the ground hard, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Frickin' wildcat…just wanted to take her to a movie!"

* * *

 


	4. Heavy Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag for season 2, episode 1 'In My Time of Dying.' This is one of the more angsty drabbles I have written.

* * *

Bright orange and yellow flames danced against the blackness of the night sky. Elegant and graceful, but hungry, quickly eating away at white linen and the empty shell that was once John Winchester.

Another soldier fallen before his time in the fight against darkness.

Sam and Dean solemnly watched their father being reduced to ashes, seeing little through their silent tears and broken hearts.

Except Dean, whose strong mental walls had begun to crumble as he remembered John whispering in his ear those fateful words…

_"Watch out for Sammy, Dean. Save him. And if you can't save him…-_

… _Kill him."_

* * *

 


	5. A Brother's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is hurt, but he isn't alone. Wee!chester.  
> Dean is 8, Sam is 4.

* * *

 

Little Sammy didn't know what happened while his daddy and big brother were out, but he knew Dean was hurt.

He saw the scrapped and bruised knees the moment Dean walked through the door.

Then he saw the glimmer in his eyes, unshed tears pooling there.

"De?"

"I'm okay, Sammy. Just fell…" Dean winced as he sat down.

Sam blinked, then walked purposefully into the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth.

Dean pressed it against his scrapes, smiling in gratitude.

Sam scrambled up on the bed to give his brother a hug. "Love you, De."

"Love you too, squirt."

* * *

 


	6. The Last Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written mid Season 4 as speculation of where the series might go. Which of course it didn't come anywhere close to what I thought it would, so this is very much an AU.
> 
>  
> 
> The time of the Apocalypse has arrived and Sam and Dean find themselves on opposite sides of the board.

* * *

Dean stood upon the barren precipice, gazing out across the blackened valley below him, taking in the high-rises and city blocks reduced to ruins, the innumerable cars overturned, one on the top of the other, the glossy paint burned away. Once flowing trees now stood as blackened, grotesque skeletons, lining the sides of a torn and ravaged road, while anything left standing cast great shadows across the land like a stain, threatening to swallow everything in its path.

This had been Los Angeles.

It had fallen, blown away, along with the rest of the world, with the coming of the Apocalypse and the rising of Lucifer

He was all that remained.

He could swear he could still hear the screams, the anguished cries of fear and pain from billions of people as their flesh had been stripped away, burning into nothingness.

Why was it that he should live while the rest of humanity was wiped from existence?

Because he was an angel. That's why.

He flexed the white feathery appendages that sprouted from between his shoulder blades, his so-called gift from a God he'd never met. When he'd agreed to submit to God's will, he hadn't expected this…and it was damn inconvenient. He was immortal. A friggin' angel. Doomed to live forever, never changing, never aging, unless someone cared to stick him with Lucifer's sword.

Which he wished they would. He couldn't fulfill 'God's will.' Not this.

He couldn't kill Sam.

Sam, Sammy, his brother, his only family…

The Antichrist.

No, he couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it. It was too much. Despite what his younger sibling had become, what atrocities he'd committed, Dean couldn't bear the thought of lifting a hand to hurt him, let alone kill him.

But he'd promised his dad, he'd promised _Sammy_ …

_"If I ever become something I'm not, you have to kill me. Promise me, Dean…"_

His heart was conflicted.

He should've asked when they'd made him an angel to make him dick-ish like the rest of the lot, so that he wouldn't be having this problem.

Then again, when had things ever gone the way he'd wanted them?

_You promised him…_

This was his mission, and he had to complete it.

There was no longer Sammy, or even Sam, but Samael, the son of Lucifer. Not his brother anymore, but a monster.

He had a job to do.

With a great flurry of his wings, he launched himself into the dark expanse.

* * *

 


	7. Downright Unbearable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to his brother, Dean's a real mother hen.
> 
> Set before season 4. May be a bit OOC. Meh.

* * *

 

"Saaa-aaamm!" came the annoyed shout. "Who said you could move?"

Sam sighed and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "Dean, I was just getting a drink."

"I'll get it for you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I can walk fine."

"That was _before_ you decided to take a nosedive into an open grave."

"It's just a broken ankle, Dean," Sam protested.

"And next time it might be your neck," Dean retorted. "No. You're staying right there before you break something else."

There was a pause.

"So…" Sam smirked. "Gonna pee for me, too?"

Dean flipped a middle finger. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

* * *

 


	8. Just a Spoonful of Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wee!chesters. Saying 'no' just doesn't work when it comes to Sam. 
> 
> Dean is ten, Sam is six.

* * *

 

Dean stared at the container, salivating at the bite-size chocolates that filled it.

He wanted one. He _deserved_ one.

Dean looked down at the five in his hand. It was supposed to be spent on groceries, but it was just one little sweet. It wouldn't hurt.

He tossed one in with the food and paid.

Sam's eyes widened at the confection. "Can I have it, Deanie? Pweeaaasse?"

"No."

Unshed tears began to glisten.

"Okay! Fine…" Dean threw the candy at his brother.

Sam eagerly unwrapped it, then tugged on Dean's sleeve.

"What?"

Sam held out a tiny half. "Want some?"

* * *

 


	9. Gotta Love the Feeling

* * *

 

_Prick._

"Err…"

_Prick._

"Ahh…"

_Prick._

"Ouch!"

_Prick._

"Ow dammit!"

_Prick._

"Grr…Gimme that!" Dean tore the needle away from the nurse, who gaped at him in alarm.

"Sir, I have to find that vein…"

"I'll find it myself." Dean located one and stuck the needle in, letting out a hiss.

"Please, sir, you don't know what you're doing."

"And you do?" He held out his arm, which now turning a deepening shade of purple with the array of pinpricks and dots of blood from all her attempts.

"This is my job—"

"This?" He glared. "Lady, I'm not a friggin' pincushion!"

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to those who know the pains of being pricked by a needle one too many times.


	10. Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag for 4.21 When the Levee Breaks

* * *

 

Long fingers tightened their hold, filling the air with desperate gasps as Sam choked the life out of his brother.

Then, he released, energy suddenly spent as he came to his senses, and moved away.

"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!"

Sam glanced back.

" _You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!"_

_Don't you ever come back…!_

_Come back…_

His brother and father's voices echoed in sync with each other, rooting him down in the harsh reality of their words.

* * *

 


	11. How The Mighty Have Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag for Season 4 before Sam's demon blood 'detox'.

* * *

 " _Where the hell are you, Ruby? This isn't funny anymore. I'm all out. Stop whatever you're doing. Call me. I need more."_

A quirky smile tugged at the corner of Ruby's lips as she listened to the voicemail on her phone. _Oh Sam,_ she thought. _So desperate, so_ ** _needy…_** _What would big brother think?_

Dean, of course, would freak out at Sam, then likely stab her in the heart with her own knife. Or try to anyway. She wasn't going to just stand there for him with her arms wide open. Her smile broadened, a shiver of perverse pleasure tingling down her spine. Sam wouldn't let his brother even get close enough to her to attempt such a thing. She had the young Winchester right under her thumb, following her like a love-struck puppy on a leash, lusting for her, or more specifically the crimson ecstasy that flowed just beneath her flawless skin.

Demon blood was more than just a simple buzz to get one through the day, more than just an addiction. It was power. Pure, raw power. Inhuman. Giving those in whose veins it coursed through a higher sense of reality, with heightened senses and strength abound, and to those that tasted of its fire, a glimpse of what lay beyond mortal limitations.

But a glimpse wasn't good enough, not for Sam Winchester. He wanted more. He wanted that power. He wanted that sense of invincibility that it gave him.

He wanted that control.

_You can have it, Sammy. You can have it all._

Little did Sam know, or cared to acknowledge, was just how out of control he'd become. His mood swings, his hunger to be more than what he was… It was almost sad.

_I'm the little fallen angel perched on your shoulder, whispering secrets in your ear._

Sam was her puppet on strings, coming to her beck and call and hanging onto her every word. He did not hear the poison in her soft voice or see the malevolence in her dark eyes. He did not question her, not as long as she eased his insatiable thirst.

_You need it, Sammy. You want it. I know you do._

Gone was the curious, self-conscious young hunter she'd first met, who was always concerned about turning into something he wasn't, afraid of his powers, his gifts. Then Dean had gone to Hell, and those qualities fled Sam, leaving him vulnerable to her charms and seductive prowess. He slowly bent to her will, succumbing fully at his first drink from her body, her fountain of temptations and power. There was only obedience now. Absolute obedience.

_You can't resist me. In your heart, it's all you desire._

There was no more of _Dean's_ Sammy to be found in the young hunter. That part of Sam was lost and buried, drowned in his affliction. There was only _her_ Sammy now. A Sammy that would do _anything_ for her.

Now and forever.

_Oh, how the mighty have fallen._

* * *

 


	12. Treasure of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Not all treasure is silver and gold." –Jack Sparrow POTC. 
> 
> Brotherly fluff. Wee!Chesters.

* * *

 

"Arrr!" Dean thrust a stick at Sam. "Away you scurvy dog!"  
Sam parried with his own imaginary sword. "Never!"  
Dean let his little brother push him across the empty lot.  
"Ahha!"  
Sam's 'sword' slipped past his brother's and Dean guided it under his arm.  
"Ack! You've got me!" He sank to the ground, unmoving.  
"Dean?"  
"Grah!"  
Sam squealed as Dean grabbed him and tickled his sides. "Ahhh! Dean, stop!"  
Dean laughed. "Alright. Wanna help me bury that treasure chest?"  
"Yeah!"  
Dean sat up on his knees and pointed to the ground. "Put your back into it!"  
Sam dug a little hole with his hand. "Aye, Captain!"  
As Sam worked, Dean pulled out a matchbox and pocketknife. "C'mere."  
Sam stilled as Dean cut off a lock of his hair and tucked it into the box. "That's treasure?"  
"Yeah, Sammy, that's treasure," Dean said. "You're treasure."  
"What about you? Aren't you treasure too?"  
"Uh…"  
"C'mon, Dean."  
Dean took a bit of his own hair and sliced it off, tucking it neatly alongside Sam's piece. "Happy?"  
"Yeah."  
Together they laid their 'treasure chest' into the ground and covered it up.  
"So, we're both treasure, huh?" Sam asked.  
Dean smiled. "Yeah. Always and forever."

* * *

 


	13. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tag that was written back when season 4 was airing. Just a short story on what I think is Castiel's view on humanity.
> 
>  
> 
> Despite the road of blood and gore mankind had paved through history, there was good there too. A certain angel wishes he could have a part of it.

* * *

 

Man was such a curious creature. He, with his silly pursuits and wild dreams, longing to be more than what he was, who would build an empire one day and tear it down to rubble the next. How carelessly he could wage wars over the most trivial of matters, wreaking havoc everywhere he treads, giving and taking life with great ease. That was the way of Man, burning a path through the ages, and leaving a bloody mess in his wake.

Deemed the greatest of all God's creations, Man tried to live up to that name, with various religions and ideals springing up, trying to follow his own interpretations of laws given by a higher force that he did not know, that he couldn't even begin to envision. What was it about Man that God could see so much potential, that he would give so much praise? Man, who declared himself God's child and deciding he should choose who lives and who dies. To protect the innocent and punish the wicked, once the decision of the Almighty, but somehow the choice ending up in the hands of this mortal creature. A being who was a destructive force of nature, now handing out judgment as he saw fit.

Mankind was a savage and brutal race, with a lust for blood that amazed both the heavens and below, slaughtering thousands of their own in a day. Bloodthirsty and arrogant-mankind was no stranger to the Seven Deadly Sins, which left its mark on each and every day of their lives. Death and decay, destruction and corruption-man was fueled by it, driven towards their goal of world domination, a course, that if continued, would lead them into purgatory.

So why did God care so much for these sinful, prideful creatures?

Because there was good there also, coexisting with evil. Man could feel compassion as well as contempt, love as much as hate, and a thousand emotions beside. It was what made him unique above all other creatures. He, with his powerful will to survive, yet self-sacrificing heart.

Castiel could not help but be intrigued by humanity for that very reason. Curiosity was rather something of an anomaly to him, but he felt it nonetheless, especially when he walked among mankind, unbeknownst to them, secretly studying them as he carried out his orders.

None spiked that curiosity more than Dean Winchester, a man whose name was known throughout both Heaven and Hell, a man who'd damned his soul to the Abyss in exchange for his brother's life. It was that act of righteousness that Castiel so admired, but was confused as to why Dean could not see that quality. He didn't understand why Dean insisted he was failing.

Then again, he didn't understand a great many things mankind did.

So he tried to study them, to learn more about what they did and why they did it. He should have picked someone less like his charge to study, though. Dean's reckless actions and low view on life only served to confuse him further. Even the hunter's choice of words left him speculating as to their meaning.

" _And what visage are you now? Some holy tax-accountant?"_

Sarcasm.

He would never really grasp that concept of humanity.

Even as he sat now on a park bench, watching the people walk by, he realized he would never really understand. Not Man's brutality, his hunger for power, or his opposing qualities of passion and want for peace. Castiel was an angel, a warrior of God, and he would never know what it was like to be human.

Perhaps his siblings were right. He _had_ grown too close to his charge. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing; at least he didn't view it as such. Others in his garrison said that it was because of his youth (for an angel) that he didn't understand the consequences of his actions. That's where they were wrong; he understood fully well, even if he didn't quite grasp anything else. It was they who didn't understand. His siblings didn't know of the jovial laughter of mortal children ringing in the air and what it signified, or of the numerous aspirations and goals that made each person different from one another. They didn't even try to learn of its significance. But he did. He could at least comprehend that much.

Joy, love, fear, hate-there was so much to humanity, so much that he wanted to learn, to experience first-hand. They had so much to offer him.

Before he'd been sent to retrieve Dean Winchester's soul from perdition, he'd been a good angel, obeying without question, and never having any doubts about his purpose. But now…now he wasn't so sure. He couldn't tell if his fascination was acceptable to his Father or considered a blasphemy. Either way though, he was glad to have been given the opportunity. Dean Winchester might not have helped him further understand why man was so perplexing, but he believed he found the reason behind God's reasoning. They truly were His children, ever growing, and ever learning. They could learn from past mistakes and work to better themselves. God had given them the option to. To survive or fail was their choice alone, and no one else's. Their instincts and their emotions were their only guide. Such is what made them human.

Another feeling rose up inside Castiel.

Longing.

To want that which he could not have was a great sin indeed.

And to understand that made him break a little inside.

* * *

 


	14. A Show of Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dean? Why did you call your brother a female dog?" Dean tries to explain.  
> Written around the airing of Seasons 4 and 5.

* * *

 

When Castiel appeared in the middle of the motel room, he should have taken the raised voices as a hint to return another time, as he wasn't on any official business. But curiosity got the better of him.  
"Why are you arguing?" he asked.  
Sam and Dean both jumped, not having seen him standing off to the side.  
"Damn it, Cas," Dean snapped. "Is it so hard to use the door? You almost gave us a heart attack."  
"I'm sorry."  
Dean waved it off. "And we weren't arguing. We were just having a…difference of opinions."  
"Difference of opinions?" Sam interjected. "Yeah, sure Dean. You can be a real jerk, you know that?"  
"Bitch."  
Castiel tilted his head.  
Sam rolled his eyes skyward at his sibling's response. "So, why are you here?" he asked, turning his attention towards the angel.  
Castiel seemed not to hear him, more focused on the older Winchester "Dean?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Why did you call your brother a female dog?"  
Sam almost choked. Dean stared.  
"Umm..."  
"As far as I am aware, Samuel is a man."  
"I would hope so," Sam snickered. "And it's Sam." He looked between Dean and Castiel, smirking. "I think I'm going out to get some coffee."  
"Wh-?" Dean turned towards his younger brother, looking for some help, but Sam only flashed him a wry smile as he grabbed his room key and disappeared out the door.  
"Crap," Dean muttered.  
"Dean? You haven't answered my question."  
Dean ran a hand through his short spiky hair. "Yeah, uh, about that…" He exhaled heavily. "Oh boy."  
"Dean?" Castiel was waiting for a response. Why was the hunter so flustered by his question?  
"Well, uh, you see…Sam and I call each other names to…to show how much we care for each other." Dean cringed at that. "We don't really mean anything by it."  
"Ah, so calling your brother a 'bitch' is your way of showing affection." Strange, but that seemed to be the norm for humans.  
"Uh, yeah." Dean was unsure of how to really answer that.  
"Hmm." Castiel seemed to ponder the new information. "Thank you, Dean. You've given me much to think about."  
Dean gave a nod. "Okay then. Glad to have…helped."  
Castiel bowed his head and when Dean blinked, he was gone.

* * *

"How'd it go?"  
Dean glared at Sam, who was happily sipping coffee from a styrofoam cup. "Thanks for ditching me," he spat sarcastically. "You're such an awesome little brother."  
Sam grinned. "I know."  
Dean sighed. Siblings. He sat on the edge of his bed. "Well, anyway, I think he understood. I kinda had to go chick-flicky for him to get it, but I think he did."  
Sam's grin broadened.  
"What?" Dean narrowed his eyes. "What the hell's so funny?"  
Sam set down his coffee. "He certainly put you on the spot, didn't he?"  
"Yeah, whatever." Sam wasn't going to let him live this down, was he?  
Before either of them could say another word, a knock came at the door.  
Dean looked at his brother, who shrugged, then cautiously answered the door, hand reaching behind for the gun tucked in his pants. He released it in an instant, surprised.  
"Cas?"  
The angel swayed in the doorway, appearing dazed.  
"What do you want now?"  
Castiel fixed his bright blue eyes on the hunter. "You did not wish me to use the door?"  
Dean hadn't meant for the words to come out as harsh as they'd been. "No, uh…" Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed the angel by the sleeve of his trench coat and pulled him inside.  
Sam quirked an eyebrow at seeing the angel for the second time that day. "So…?"  
Dean set Castiel down on the bed before he fell over. He seemed to be pretty out of it.  
"I don't understand…"  
"Don't understand what, Cas?" Dean asked, concerned.  
"I-I met this kind young woman in the park earlier today and I attempted to return the feelings in an equal suitable manner, but-" He looked up into Dean's face, and that's when both brothers noticed the bright red handprint marking the side of his face.  
"Oh…oh God… Cas, tell me, please tell me you didn't call her a…a….." Dean broke off.  
"I thought you said that calling one a 'bitch' was a sign of affection," said Castiel.  
Sam snorted into his coffee then erupted into full-blown laughter, followed by Dean.  
Castiel stared at them, confused. "Was I mistaken?"  
They continued laughing, unable to control themselves.  
"Dean?"  
"Um, heh…Cas…" Dean gasped. "You don't ever call a chick a bitch. Ever."  
"But-"  
"Believe me, it's a bad idea."  
"What of your brother? He doesn't strike you."  
"That's different.'  
"How?"  
Damn it all. "It's just _our_ way of showing affection."  
"I don't understand."  
Dean sighed. "Sam, go get me some coffee," he said, "And a pie."  
He was going to need it.

 

Fin.

 


	15. Sins of the Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written during Season 4.   
> He cannot forget, and he can never forgive…

* * *

 

Hell. The Pit of Despair. Where damned souls are sent to suffer for all eternity.

Dean Winchester hates it with a passion.

He cannot readily forget the horrors he witnessed, nor the pain he felt. Nightmares plague his subconscious on a daily basis, never out of mind. In his mind's eye he can still see the twisted face of Alistair looming over his own, twirling a silver scalpel in his fingers. He can still _feel_ the blade carving into him like he was nothing more than a Thanksgiving turkey.

And the screams. He could never forget the screams, the tormented souls screaming out for a reprieve, begging for an end.

But that isn't why he hates Hell…

It was that day, thirty years into his own suffering, when he got off the rack and picked up that blade to do a little carving of his own. When he'd first sliced into that weeping woman…

And he enjoyed it.

He can no longer look into a mirror without searching for that monster, staring deep into his own eyes in a twisted hope that he'll see it and have an excuse to end his life. Waiting for the darkness to show itself again. But it never does, and he is left alone with his guilt once more.

More than Hell, he hates himself. He can never forget the atrocities he committed, nor can he ever forgive it.

And it is that knowledge that breaks him a little more inside.

* * *

 


	16. Hybrid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supernatural/Twilight crossover.
> 
> I don't hate Twilight, but if you're a Twilight lover, particularly Edward, leave now. Said character implied-bashing ensues from here.

* * *

 

"That's a vampire?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously, Sam?" Dean peeked through the bushes at the young man. "Dude looks perfectly normal."

"If you look past the golden eyes, white skin, and pointy fangs? Sure."

Dean pointed to the sky. "But it's daytime."

"It's overcast."

A ray of light broke through the clouds and the next moment they were blinded as the man lit up like a golden Christmas tree.

"Ahh," Dean hissed, covering his eyes. "The hell kind of vamp sparkles?"

"Apparently this one," Sam replied. "Must be some sort of hybrid."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's deep-fry the bastard!"

* * *

 


	17. Take A Chill Pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a bit of an overreaction.

* * *

 

Dean stared straight ahead.

Deadpan.

The deep gash seemed to taunt him, a gaping wound.

Within him, his heart raced, beating wildly against his ribcage. Pressure built up tight in his chest and his breath hitched, coming out in short quick pants.

"No…"

In his mind, he could see precious crimson trickling down.

"No nononono…"

A mortal wound.

"NO!"

Sam peered over Dean's shoulder. "Dude… Chill out. It's just a scratch."

Dean flipped. "Just a scratch? Just a scratch?!" He waved a hand frantically at the Impala. "This is my baby we're talking about, Sam! She's—she's scarred for life!"

 

* * *

 


	18. A Day at the Petshop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wee!chesters. Almost entirely dialogue.

* * *

"Dean, I want a puppy!"

"No, Sam. We can't afford to feed a dog."

"Oh… Maybe a kitty?"

"You know how Dad feels about cats. Says they're too controlling."

"A bird?"

"Craps too much."

"A hamster?"

"Too…smelly."

"A fishie!"

"Seriously? The way we live?"

"Umm…A pony?"

"Sure! You can ride it to school."

"Really?"

"No. Sam, what's this about?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I—It's just that all the kids in school have a pet…"

"So?"

"So, I want one too!"

"…Do these kids have awesome big brothers?"

Dimples flashed. "Not like you."

"Thought so. C'mon, Sammy, let's go get some ice-cream."

* * *

 


	19. Never Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tag for 5x10 'Abandon All Hope...' The final moments of the Harvelles.

* * *

 

_So ends the day, with the Harvelle girls' final stand._

Ellen held her daughter close, gently rocking to soothe the endless shivering. Jo tensed one last time before falling limp, leaving tears of denial to streak down Ellen's cheeks as she was left to whisper words of comfort to a now empty shell.

_Shh…it'll be okay…Mommy's here…_

The doors burst open, the low growls and snarls of invisible hellhounds filling the air. Her hand tightened around her daughter's, finding comfort in the bomb's ignition switch.

_Shh…_

Heated breath beat against her hair.

_I'm coming, baby._

And she pressed the trigger.

* * *

 


	20. Birds A Twitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has a dirty mind. But we already knew that.

* * *

 

"Finally!" Sam said suddenly. "I was able to twitter Angie."

Dean blinked.

"Twitter who?"

"A chick from Stanford."

"And you 'twittered her?" Dean laughed. "Sammy, you kinky sonuvabitch!"

Sam stared. "…What?"

"So when did you do this? I mean we've hardly been separated the whole week."

"Dean…I messaged her…online…"

It was Dean's turn to stare. "Twitter…is a type of e-mail?"

"Yeah."

Dean frowned. "And here I thought Twitter was some new way of saying sex." He moved to Sam's side. "Lemme see."

Sam clicked to the page.

"Oh yeah." Dean grinned. "I might just 'twitter' myself some Angie. She's _hot."_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean once thought that Myspace was a porn site, so I don't think it's too far off for him to think of 'twitter' being some kind of new innuendo. ;) I actually give credit for this drabble to a friend of mine. When I told her I was twittering people, she thought I meant…something else… XD


End file.
